


comme des garçons

by stanyeol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (i mean i tried), (or maybe there's a little), Bottom Park Chanyeol, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Feminization, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spanking, Top Byun Baekhyun, and a little bit of daddy kink here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanyeol/pseuds/stanyeol
Summary: to have sehun take his exam for him to pass his algebra class, chanyeol agrees to steal a ridiculously expensive jacket. too bad the store manager catches him and drags him to the stock room for punishment.(in hindsight, maybe it isn’t that bad, after all.)
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 11
Kudos: 137





	comme des garçons

if god’s really fair, he wouldn’t have given sehun the math skills of a harvard astrophysicist and the fashion taste of mafioso’s illegitimate only daughter. 

but then again, chanyeol has firsthandedly witnessed his best friend chase after the ugliest old men and moan _daddy_ in their unwashed ears, so maybe there’s hope for the world.

but that sprinkle of hope is useless when his algebra grades are tanking and sehun’s his last remaining lifeline before his mother kicks him out on the curb. _fuck_. why did his parents have to make yoora extra perfect? now being compared with her isn’t even sibling rivalry anymore—it’s just a big cosmic joke.

“c’mon, sehuuuuuun,” he whines. “i’ll do all the chores in the apartment and i’ll even cook for you.” he even juts his lower lip in a pout and clasps his hands together, like he’s reciting a prayer. with how fickle and yet powerful sehun is for him at the moment, he may as well start worshipping him, so chanyeol hopes the real one above can let this slide just once.

he’s pretty sure blasphemy isn’t really giving him any more brownie points right now, but there’s nothing else he can do. god loves the needy, right? well, he was _desperate_ —that has to account for something.

sehun just raises one immaculately sculpted brow at him, face overwhelmingly unfazed. “we have a housekeeper and a chef that my sugar daddy pays for,” he says, giving chanyeol a smug smile. 

he feels the cinders of hope in his chest die down little by little. back then he would’ve argued that sehun’s sugar daddy may grow tired of supporting him so they had to learn to survive without him, but that was before he found out that sehun’s sugar daddy pays for the housekeeper, while his sugar daddy’s _real_ daddy pays for the chef. 

when they said ‘eat the rich’, sehun oh preyed for the horny ones. _smart._

“well…” chanyeol trailed off, trying to think of something else to bargain with. 

his prized and beloved electric guitar? nah, sehun will just complain about how it’ll just bring calluses to his perfect hands. 

all his bells in animal crossing? but who’s to say that sehun hasn’t gotten some from his sugar daddies. chanyeol took a peek at his island a while ago; it looks too fancy for his own good.

sex? he didn’t think they managed to bring their double-ended dildo from seoul.

“can’t you just do it for a friend? your bestest hyung?” is what chanyeol settled with, fluttering his eyelashes. 

it didn’t work. sehun stops sipping his strawberry-acai berry-whatever expensive tropical fruit that seems colorful enough concoction and takes the metal straw (save the turtles!) out of his mouth in a dramatic plop.

“i’m not committing academic fraud for you, hyung.”

“you make your big-shot lawyer sugar daddy write your philo papers!”

sehun just shrugs. “so? he finds it hot.” then he takes another sip of his rancid smoothie—92% sugar, 8% calories, 100% won’t affect sehun at all because he had the genetics blessed by the olympian gods—and licks his lips, brow suddenly furrowed in thought.

 _wait._ maybe chanyeol did have a chance in this.

“well…” sehun starts. and even though chanyeol is already on his knees, he can’t help but bounce on the heels of his feet. “what are you willing to do for—”

“everything.”

sehun raises his eyebrows again at him, this time both of them.

“anything.”

* * *

chanyeol fidgets as he looks at the imposing store in front of him. all white, all windows, all lit up, as if it’s gloating at him for being scared to go inside. he’s in the middle of some street in aoyama, surrounded by high-end boutiques worth twice more than his life—if he’s living well, that is. with what sehun sought him out to do now, he’ll settle for being worth a dozen times more.

it’s cold, the chilly air of fall getting to him, making him huddle even more under the louis vuitton cardigan he nicked from sehun’s closet. it’s his disguise, he keeps on telling himself, to blend in with the affluent crowd. but he wonders how much more he can hide when he’s six-foot-two and wearing a cropped women’s cardigan whose striped pleated sleeves were like exaggerated parentheses.

he’s fairly certain that the white leather pencil skirt and military boots sehun added with his outfit aren’t helping either.

“you’d look good in this, hyung. i wore it too before and i got a lot of compliments. androgyny is in now,” sehun had said. _of course, sehun did._ when sehun wears stuff like these, it’s called androgyny; for him, it’s stupidity. like the level that makes passersby in aoyama, one of tokyo’s most fashionable, look at him in pity.

 _comme des garçons_ , that’s what the lit-up signage says near the storefront. this is where sehun sent him to so that he’d log into chanyeol’s google classroom account and answer his algebra midterm for him. all he had to do was grab a four-thousand dollar tulle jacket and leave, so that sehun can have something pretty to wear when they go around tokyo tomorrow while walking vivi.

you may ask: why can’t sehun just ask his sugar daddy to buy it for him? too late—chanyeol asked about it first. sehun had just rolled his eyes at him earlier. “it’s comme des garçons, hyung,” he had said like it was obvious, as if chanyeol should’ve known about why already. “his fiancee is an executive there, remember? i don’t think he can let it go under her radar.”

 _fuck his life_. if chanyeol had only known that this is where sehun’s random “hyung, let’s go to japan. i just got my allowance” moments would lead to, he wouldn’t have agreed.

* * *

the thing about expensive boutiques is that they’re rarely crowded. but maybe chanyeol’s luck is turning, because when he finally musters enough courage to get in, there’s a family of four browsing and a few other girls ruffling over the racks. 

he tries to look nonchalant, blending into them, but judging from the curious looks from the girls (and the family’s father) and the dirty glares (from the family’s mother) he got, he wasn’t doing much of a good job. still, it’s either this or he gets out of university and fulfills his destiny as the family’s laughing stock.

he squares his shoulders. he isn’t giving up without a fight, yoora.

chanyeol immerses himself as he browses the racks, letting his fingers stroke the soft fabrics. he doesn’t know much about fashion—all he knows about clothes is distinguishing between what’s clean and what’s passable—but he appreciates beauty wherever he go. 

so when he suddenly turns and meets possibly one of the most beautiful men he’s seen, he surmises he’ll be more invested in fashion after this.

“hey,” the white-haired man says, smirking as his kohl-lined eyes scan chanyeol from head to toe. “i’m baekhyun, part-time brand shopper, full-time country manager. is there anything i can help you with?”

“kei ninomiya’s 2019 ready-to-wear noir collection, can i see it?” he tries to say, according to sehun’s instructions that he’s been memorizing for twenty minutes prior to entering the store. but of course, all he manages is to stutter like a fish out of water.

he flails and almost falls to his knees before grabbing on anything near to support himself, which apparently happens to be baekhyun’s bicep. the white-haired man looks down on him, smirk growing wider.

using his fingers—which chanyeol notices are as exquisite as the man himself, baekhyun strokes chanyeol’s cropped cardigan, whose zipper was zipped all the way up the apex of his throat. the cardigan’s thick material doesn’t have a chance against the warmth that baekhyun’s touch launches upon his body, something that chanyeol can’t even bear to comprehend _why_.

baekhyun’s fingers settles on his cardigan’s zipper, bringing it a few inches down. “there,” he says, his voice an entire octave lower. his kohl-rimmed eyes settle on chanyeol’s exposed neck, before hungrily taking in the small space that exposes his chest. 

chanyeol blushes, feeling the warmth flood him even more. isn’t it supposed to be fall? why is it too hot latel—

baekhyun suddenly pulls him to his feet, flush against his chest, before bringing his lips to chanyeol’s ears. “you don’t have a bag and both your cardigan and your skirt don’t have pockets. i thought there was one inside the lining of your cardigan but there isn’t. where are you going to put your card or cash, huh? you don’t even have a phone with you, princess, do you? i’ve been doing this for a long while now so you can’t fool me.”

the man steps away from him before grinning widely, as if nothing happened. no one around the notices too, probably seeing nothing unusual with baekhyun’s customer service smile and chanyeol’s blushed cheeks, which were likely to be from the outside cold.

baekhyun gestures toward the store’s back. “i think we have what you’re looking for at the stock room. would you like to see?”

* * *

“you’re a tourist, aren’t you? i recognize the accent. korea, i presume?” baekhyun asks casually, as if he can’t see that chanyeol’s scared out of his wits.

this isn’t how he expected designer stock rooms to look like. he’s always imagined them to be brightly lit, with sparsely decorated shelves containing all the pricey items, like a minimalist museum of sorts. but instead, this was dark and cramped, industrial shelves lined closely together leaving almost no space for anyone to walk into, all of them filled with boxes or covered with hangers of clothes. 

if baekhyun were to kill him here, he’d be rotting for weeks underneath leather and tulle and plastic and no one would even notice.

the manager leads him to the farthest section of the room, where there’s a small office desk, a few computer monitors set up, and a small table lamp. beside it is a simple telephone. but from how baekhyun smirks at him while pointing at him, chanyeol senses that this may possibly be the murder weapon that will end him.

“do you know how much money this store is worth? one call to the police and they’ll all run to get over here,” he says, tapping the phone. “do you also know what the japanese do to foreigners who commit crimes on their land?” seeing chanyeol shake his head no, baekhyun continues, “you don’t really want to know, dear. i assure you that.”

“w-well…” chanyeol stutters. still, he squares his shoulders, trying to look tougher even though there are already tears betraying him and escaping from the corner of his eyes. “are you going to kill me?” he asks, feigning confidence. “because if you are, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t make it quick.”

baekhyun laughs. and it isn’t pretty—far from it. it sounds like a man without inhibitions, without regrets, without any qualms behind what he’s doing. without any fear of taking any risks. honestly, it sounds like someone completely capable of ending chanyeol. 

but even though this should be the worst sight in the world for him, there’s a flicker of warmth coiling in his belly, making his breathing hitch. and chanyeol knows himself—this isn’t _fear_ anymore.

the man plops down on the office chair near the desk and scans his eyes over chanyeol again. this time, he indulges himself and takes his time, pointedly ogling his entire body as if he’s taking notes while making plans.

baekhyun smirks. “there is. there’ll be no use to you if you die that quick.” the man spreads his legs and chanyeol sees the hard outline of his cock strain through his pants. _oh_.

“but don’t worry, i won’t call the police.” his smirk has grown even more as he sees how wide chanyeol’s eyes have become. “you just have to promise to be extra nice for me…” he trails off, to which chanyeol remains silent. annoyed, baekhyun asks, “your name?”  
  
“c-chanyeol,” he manages to mutter.

“chan-yeol,” baekhyun says, playing with the syllables of his name. “i don’t like it. too special. thieves like you don’t deserve that.” 

the man pulls on chanyeol’s hand and as he’s in a daze, he ends up crumpled in a heap on baekhyun’s lap. he doesn’t seem bothered though, stroking chanyeol’s hair and trailing circles on his cheeks, ghosting goosebumps on his skin. 

then, the hand tangled in chanyeol’s hair suddenly pulled at it, making him yelp. 

but he was never able to, because suddenly, baekhyun crashes their lips together. chanyeol hasn’t kissed much before, with his only experience being a drunken encounter in a truth or dare game in his college’s freshman orientation. his inexperience shows, leaving him unable to return baekhyun’s kisses, but it’s evident that the other man doesn’t care. 

for baekhyun, it’s just a game of _take, take, take._ he snakes his way into chanyeol, marking him all over, sucking and biting his lips. he roughly tugs the zipper of chanyeol’s cardigan down, manhandling him so that he’d have the prime location to leave bruises on his neck.

and he did. over and over, baekhyun attacked chanyeol’s neck, nipping a few spots here and there, adamant to make it red. to make it _bleed._

then he stops. and when chanyeol looks back at him, disoriented, all he sees is a man beaming with pride, grinning wildly at him. “look at you. all a mess for me. you enjoyed that, huh? that’s what sluts like you do anyway.”

all of a sudden, his smile disappears. “that’s what you are, remember that. forget your name, forget _chanyeol_ ,” he says, spitting his name out like venom. “you’re a filthy, filthy bitch who deserves to be punished. you’re a whore. my slut.”

baekhyun pushes him off his lap, leaving him sitting on the floor in a daze. “get up. strip,” he commanded.

his words fail to register quickly in chanyeol’s head, or at least not enough, because when he finally realizes what baekhyun has said, the man had already stood up, annoyance plain on his face. “such a useless bitch,” he remarks, manhandling chanyeol to his feet.

clumsily, chanyeol stumbles and leans toward baekhyun. he jolts, afraid of the man’s anger, but he never manages to apologize before baekhyun rolls his eyes and decides to strip him on his own. he harshly tugs chanyeol’s cardigan off his shoulders, pulling it down his body while making sure that the coarse material of the cardigan rubs on his nipples.

he can’t help the squeak that came out of him as he adjusts to the sensation, his hips bucking suddenly. embarrassed, he tries to slump over and hide himself, but baekhyun clearly delights in this, pulling him closer to him. the man grinds his hard crotch on chanyeol’s hip, and even with the thick leather separating it from his skin, he feels it alighting him with fire.

chanyeol’s breath stutters, mouth opening in a gasp, which baekhyun takes advantage of. he shoves two of his slender fingers in chanyeol’s mouth, tickling the roof of his mouth, gathering saliva while almost making him gag. then, he lets his fingers play around chanyeol’s chest before settling on his nipple, gently stroking circles around the nub. 

hot breaths meet chanyeol’s ears. “you look so good for me, bitch. this is what you came for, isn’t it? you need someone telling you what you are, huh?”

baekhyun’s other hand drags the zipper of chanyeol’s skirt down before pulling it roughly off of him. then, after a beat, chanyeol squirms to cover his crotch. sehun had convinced him earlier to wear lingerie too—to complete the _femme fatale_ image he was trying to sport with his outfit. if he only knew that this is where he’d end up with, then he would’ve…

he struggles to finish that thought. then he would’ve what? he can’t even seem to think of himself or by himself anymore, completely enamored under baekhyun’s spell.

the man in question grins, planting a soft kiss on chanyeol’s temple. he takes his wet fingers and dragged it roughly on the head of chanyeol’s cock, which is straining against the lace. he uses the wetness of his fingers to toy with it, scraping his fingernails lightly on the slit, making chanyeol jerk from the sensation.

baekhyun continues to rub chanyeol’s cock from underneath the red lace panty he’s wearing, the rough pad of his thumb toying with the slit. he clicks his tongue, hot breath fanning over chanyeol’s face. “but don’t you think you’re enjoying this too much? you _are_ supposed to be punished, remember?”

the man takes off all his hands from chanyeol, making him whimper. but baekhyun just smirks, pulling chanyeol by his hair as he settles on his office chair once again. then, baekhyun drags him down to his knees, between his legs, tugging him roughly until he’s inches apart from baekhyun’s arousal.

“what are you waiting for?” baekhyun asks. but before he can even respond, the man shoves his face to his crotch, making him struggle with the sudden loss of air.

when baekhyun lets him emerge, he just gets laughed at sardonically before being warned, “get to work.”

with his shaking hands, chanyeol pulls baekhyun’s cock from his pants and gingerly strokes it. he doesn’t have much to compare it with, but it’s definitely larger than his, maybe as big as the ones he sees in the videos he’d vehemently deny he’s watched. 

baekhyun just quirks an eyebrow at him, as if waiting for him to perform, but he just shakes even more, unable to figure out what to do next. 

hot tears threaten to spill out of him, fueled by shame and humiliation—from what exactly he doesn’t know anymore. is it because he’s dumb enough to end up in this situation? or because even though he’s already in this situation, he’s still so stupid to not know what to do. the levels of how much he’s a failure, honestly—maybe he does deserve being kicked out of the curb and—

baekhyun surprises him with a gentle stroke on his hair. “hey, hey,” he says softly, hushing him. “you’re doing well. you should start with kissing it, okay? gentle licks and strokes, and pay attention to your teeth.”

chanyeol follows him, his tongue out darting to lap at the wetness on the head of baekhyun’s cock. he licks gingerly at the precum, experimenting to spread it on his lips. he looks up and sees baekhyun hungrily looking at him. the appreciation gives him a good buzz inside, and he decides he wants it more. chanyeol smacks his lips and drools over baekhyun’s cock, coating it with his saliva before rushing over and devouring his cock.

chanyeol moans around the length in his mouth, bobbing his head slowly, trying to find a good pace. he remembers sehun’s stories about his sugar daddies, about what they like, and tries to use them now, so chanyeol strokes baekhyun’s balls while sucking on his length.

then, baekhyun grabs a fistful of his hair and pushes chanyeol’s head on his cock, dragging him to him over and over, fucking his mouth. he thrusts into chanyeol’s face without pity, ignoring the tears and drool running on his chin, the trembling and choking and scratches on baekhyun’s hips, struggling for help, as he jerks his hips to stuff his throat.

stealing a glance at baekhyun, chanyeol sees the man in his glory: unabashed, unapologetic, but completely in control. 

baekhyun was even more beautiful here than how he met him earlier in the store.

the man pulls him off his cock, his eyes devouring chanyeol’s wreck, traveling leisurely on his drool-covered chin and tear-stricken cheeks. he slaps his still hardened cock on chanyeol’s raw cheeks, and chanyeol—for some unknown reason unbeknownst to him—immediately turns to it, as if his mouth is trying to find it again.

shame floods chanyeol as baekhyun laughs wholeheartedly, but all of that ebbs away as the man strokes his hair and tucks it behind his ear. “you learn quickly, baby. so, _so_ good for me. you’re made for this, aren’t you?” he plants a kiss on chanyeol’s forehead. “made for me.”

all he does is hum in response. his body was straining, his thighs and knees bearing the pain of being manhandled and shoved to the floor earlier. his crotch is damp all over, cock struggling against the flimsy lace, still in deep with arousal. but he doesn’t dare to move, in case he disobeys baekhyun’s wishes. he doesn’t want to go against baekhyun anymore. he just wants to be _good_.

the man gently tugs him upward, before settling him to straddle his lap, facing away from him. he fans warm breaths against the shell of chanyeol’s ear, the smirk evident in his tone even though chanyeol can’t see him. “is this your first time, baby girl?”

he nods, and he can feel baekhyun’s grin grow even more. “good thing daddy made it really good for you, right, princess?”

chanyeol hears the clang of a drawer being pulled and the click of a bottle snapped open. baekhyun hugs him closer to his body, settling him right atop his hardened arousal, grinding it directly on his hole. he whimpers, but this only made the man bolder with his actions.

baekhyun bends chanyeol practically in half, his bare back rough against baekhyun’s still clothed chest, and spreads his legs apart, settling them each on the office chair’s armrests. the lace of his panties is powerless against the rush of the cold air, making him twitch as his gaping hole is assaulted by the sudden chilly breeze.

the man reaches between chanyeol’s legs to tear his flimsy underwear off him in one swift tug, leaving him exposed completely. baekhyun refuses to take pity on him, dragging his rough palm on chanyeol’s wet cock that demanded affection. but before chanyeol can even moan out loud, baekhyun silences him with a sudden, harsh slap near his hole, the vibrations reaching that sweet spot inside, making him jump and groan out loud.

he tries to stifle his noise down, but baekhyun is completely unfazed, completely unafraid of anyone walking in on them. a man in control of the world.

he gives chanyeol’s ass another slap before reaching over and spreading his cheeks with his fingers, toying lightly on the rim. he presses lightly on his hole, chanyeol’s muscles fluttering under his touch, his breathing refusing to remain even. 

“you don’t have to keep quiet, baby girl,” baekhyun whispered, trailing kisses on the side of his neck. “talk to me, princess.”

“j-just…” chanyeol started. “don’t want… anyone… to interrupt,” he says, struggling not to moan out loud, breath hitching with almost every word.

“don’t worry about that, princess. now, just tell daddy what you want, okay?” baekhyun says. 

he must’ve been preparing the lube because when his other hand comes back to toy with chanyeol’s hole, it’s wet and warm, making his first finger breach the muscle easily. knots formed within chanyeol’s stomach, the tension coiling inside of him even more without the enough sensation to make him go loose.

baekhyun dips his finger in and out of chanyeol’s hole, going inside him but not too much, leaving the other with no choice but to chase him.

but all the man does is click his tongue. “ _tsk_ , baby girl, i asked you what you wanted, remember? use your words.”

“i want…” chanyeol starts, as baekhyun’s finger—three this time—enter him. “you,” he says, the word trapped in his throat as baekhyun goes dangerously close to his prostate. 

but then, the man stills right when he’s almost near chanyeol’s spot. “you _what_?” baekhyun asks playfully, nipping his ear.

“daddy.”

baekhyun shoves him off his lap again before positioning him to be on all fours on the floor. then he seems to have changed his mind and with his grip on chanyeol’s hair tight, he pulled him close to his body, back flush against his chest, as they both kneel on the hard cement floor. 

his hand wanders to chanyeol’s neck, wrapping his slender fingers around it, gently stroking his adam’s apple. as if he’s relishing in the sheer power under his fingertips—one hard squeeze and a life gets stolen. one soft tug and he has chanyeol forever.

too bad chanyeol has lost all strength to string his words coherently to tell baekhyun that he doesn’t have to anymore. because he already has.

baekhyun’s other hand settles on his cock, stroking it lightly, keeping him on the edge but never over it, controlling when he’ll get to do so— _if_ he’ll even get to. chanyeol moans, gaining the courage to thrust into baekhyun’s hand, trying to make the other see his pleasure, encouraging him to do what he must.

but the man decides to take it up a notch. in one swift movement, he buries his cock inside chanyeol without any warning at all.

chanyeol feels overwhelmed—dizzy, lightheaded, an entire war ravaging his entirety from the inside, stealing his body’s autonomy from him. his knees buckle as he moans, jolting from the sensitivity as baekhyun’s hand on his throat migrates to his chest, groping and playing with the flatness like he had breasts to squeeze. 

his mouth hangs open, drool dribbling on his chin once again, as he struggles for air because he feels like he’s _drowning_. but baekhyun doesn’t care, using his drool to spread it over his mouth, his neck, and even his chest. the man uses the wetness to circle his nipples and pinch them, running a fingernail against the tip of its nub, as he suckled a mark on chanyeol’s neck. 

he’s sticky, downright disgusting, but he can’t help and think that _this_ is exactly what he deserves.

baekhyun snaps his hips and thrusts into chanyeol over and over again, with only their groans and the sounds of their skin smacking and his balls slapping against his ass filling the room. 

arousal drenches chanyeol’s gut, growing even more powerful than before. it’s accompanied by baekhyun’s soft strokes on his sensitive cock, in tune with the jerks of the man’s hips. he can feel the drags of his cock against his walls, sending vibrations all over his body, setting him on fire.

baekhyun’s masterful in his thrusts, toying with him, knowing exactly how to make chanyeol lose control but choosing not to. at this point, it isn’t a matter of _when_ anymore, but _if._

but chanyeol thinks it’s okay. whatever baekhyun wants.

he can feel himself coming close, his breath stuttering even more and his moans becoming louder, as baekhyun goes near his prostate but not hitting it directly.

“h-harder,” he manages to utter. “f-fuck me, harder.”

“you’re forgetting a very special word, princess” baekhyun teases, playfulness coloring his tone.

“fuck me harder,” he begs. then, as an afterthought, he whimpers, “p-please.”

baekhyun grows even more brazen, his thrusts becoming more faster, harsher, rougher, and more erratic. he finally warrants chanyeol his wish and hits that spot with every thrust as his hand on chanyeol’s cock tug harder. 

chanyeol can feel the orgasm building within him. just a few more until he gets there—a few more strokes, a little more thrusts—so he rides it and lets the sensations take him.

but then baekhyun squeezes his cock, refusing to set him free, before groaning loudly, his hips jolting as he spills his hot release inside chanyeol. with his breathing uneven, labored and exhausted, baekhyun pushes chanyeol off him, leaving him in a messy heap on the floor.

tears spilled in chanyeol’s eyes as he’s denied of his release, his balls swollen and straining and sensitive. he can feel his hole gaping wide, the warm liquid of baekhyun’s cum dripping out of him, trickling down the inside of his thighs, leaking. his stomach remains tight and his breathing uneven, as his orgasm continues to be ungranted.

above him, baekhyun looks over him, the expression in his eyes unreadable. he reaches over chanyeol’s cock, squeezing it again, making him jolt with the oversensation. his head is swimming, his senses are flooded, and everything _hurt_ , but he doesn’t know how to make it stop—so all chanyeol does is cry harder.

“baby girl,” baekhyun says, voice raspy and rough. he whimpers in response and the man just continues, “what’s my name?”

he mumbles something incoherent that even he can’t seem to comprehend and baekhyun just squeezes his cock even more. “one more try, princess, or else we’ll never let this finish for you.”

desperate, chanyeol whimpers, “daddy?”

with that, baekhyun strokes him to completion, watching as the orgasm hit chanyeol, the white liquid coating his chest and thighs, mingling with the man’s earlier release.

baekhyun smiles. “make sure you come back here tomorrow with another of that tight, little skirt of yours. you’re mine now, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> side note: this is chanyeol's [outfit](https://eu.louisvuitton.com/eng-e1/products/accordion-pleats-cropped-cardigan-nvprod1770264v), while this is the [jacket](https://www.farfetch.com/ph/shopping/women/comme-des-garcons-noir-kei-ninomiya-pleated-tulle-jacket-item-13792690.aspx?clickref=1101l83QGVhU&utm_source=iprice2016&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=PHROW&utm_term=ROWNetwork&pid=performancehorizon_int&c=iprice2016&clickid=1101l83QGVhU&af_siteid=1100l9811&af_sub_siteid=1100l243&af_cost_model=CPA&af_channel=affiliate&is_retargeting=true) sehun wanted. (i'd steal it too, tbh)
> 
> this is completely unbetaed because i only wrote this to carve my one-way ticket to hell. if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading badly written smut. i'll go disappear and reflect on my life now.


End file.
